A Smile Can Tell One Thousand Lies
by MidnightSun.x
Summary: During the school holidays her life had been shattered and the small fragments of normality which she had fought to piece back together had been stomped on until nothing was left but dust. Dust and memories." TRIGGER WARNING: Contains Self Harm.


**A Smile Can Tell One Thousand Lies**

**A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, so please tell me what you think and if I should continue it. I'll continue if I get 5 reviews (: Any ideas are welcome. ****Thankyou (:**

**TRIGGER WARNING: Contains self harm. ****If you don't like, don't read. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Only the plot (:**

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Hermione Granger stepped into her dormitory for the first time in months. She'd been in this situation five times before, but this time everything was different. She was different. During the school holidays her life had been shattered and the small fragments of normality which she had fought to piece back together had been stomped on until nothing was left but dust. Dust and memories.

She surveyed the room through her chocolate brown eyes which were now lined carefully with black eyeliner. It looked exactly the same as every other year; five beds shrouded in red and gold canopies surrounding a heater. Hermione walked to her bed, which had _'Hermione Granger'_ embroidered in the canopy. She frowned slightly, why was everything so normal? She'd half expected to find her dormitory destroyed by fire exactly like her house in London.

_It was at the end of last year at Kings Cross station; she'd waved goodbye to Harry and Ron, after only just convincing Molly Weasley that she would be fine to wait for her parents to turn up alone. She'd checked her watch and glanced around a few times, only to see other students and their parents slowly dispersing. This had never happened before - her parents were always waiting for her with grins plastered on their faces. Almost forty five minutes had passed and she was beginning to receive odd looks from the security guard, so she decided to call a taxi home. Hermione had been confused and anxious on the bumpy drive home, and the taxi driver shooting her suspicious glances every few seconds was not making her any calmer. Finally she noticed her street sign, "Turn into this street, here," she'd said. She didn't register it at first, perhaps because of the fire engines and ambulances that were parked outside her house, perhaps because her house was nothing but charred rubble. But then she screamed. She didn't know whether the next bit lasted seconds or minutes; she threw open the door of the taxi and ran through the blackened gate of her house. Loud voices yelled at her to stop but she kept running until arms wrapped around her, forcing her back out the gate and talking to her, saying words but not making sense. "Your parents have perished in the fire; I'm so sorry Miss Granger."_

That was the moment that changed everything.

Hermione heard footsteps and voices coming and she took a deep breath. _Time to pretend._ The footsteps and voices entered the dorm room.

"Hermione!" Lavender squealed, "I haven't seen you in forever! How were your holidays?"

Hermione made her face resemble something of a smile and said, "I know, right? Yeah, I'm really tired, I was just going to take a nap, don't let me get in your way."

And with that she slipped behind the canopy strung around her bed sat down cross-legged.

"Hermione?" Parvati called anxiously. "Are you okay."

Hermione closed her eyes and paused before saying, "I'm fine, I think the train ride made me a bit sick."

There was a beat of silence in which Hermione could imagine Lavender and Parvati exchanging a glance.

"Okay, we'll leave you alone then. I hope you feel better."

She listened to their footsteps leaving the dorm and trailing down the stairs, their voices muted. She sighed and leant back against her pillows. This year was going to be hard, to say the least.

**_TOWRITELOVEONHERARMS_**

Hermione awoke to the sound of Lavender, Parvati, Charlotte and Laura whispering secretively. She stretched and fought to keep her eyes open. She was about to force herself out of bed when she managed to hear a bit of their conversation.

"I know, she's really changed." Parvati murmured, " I don't know what's gotten into her, I mean, did you see her eyeliner?"

"Yes!" Laura hissed, "It actually looked really good though, like it suited her. But she's acting really weird too."

"I know, she didn't even turn up to the welcoming feast last night." Added Lavender.

_Damn_, Hermione thought, _I completely forgot about that._

"Maybe she was just feeling sick, like she said." Charlotte suggested.

"Maybe," Lavender said sceptically. "Oh my god do you think she's awake?"

Hermione heard the other girls gasp and scramble up and she promptly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She heard the canopy being drawn to the side just a little bit and felt the eyes of four girls on her.

"Safe." Lavender said.

"Should we wake her up? She's already missed breakfast." Charlotte whispered.

"No, she probably needs the sleep. And plus it'll be funny if she turns up to class late for once."

They giggled and Hermione heard them collecting their books and heading off to their first class. She knew she should probably get up now or she would completely miss her first lesson – not a good start to the school year.

The Hermione of last year would have cared greatly if even a second was missed of a lesson and the new, changed Hermione tried desperately to channel her past persona. She pulled on her school uniform, washed her face, brushed her teeth and applied her eyeliner and mascara. It was mid autumn now; just going into winter, so wearing long sleaved clothes wasn't abnormal. That was her only mercy: that she wouldn't have to spend her time making up excuses for the cuts and scars that were scattered up her forearm.

Hermione took a deep breath and gazed into the mirror at her reflection. _I can do this,_ she thought, _just put on your happy mask and no one will suspect a thing. _She touched the comedy half of the drama masks charm on her charm bracelet. _Hide your pain, Hermione._

She grabbed her text books and writing material for her first and second lessons – Transfiguration and Potions – and made her way out of the dorm rooms, then through the Gryffindor portrait into the corridor.

Her footsteps echoed on the stone floors. At last she reached the Transfiguration classroom. She checked her watch – she was fifteen minutes late. Wonderful.

Hermione walked into the classroom, very self conscious as the whole class had turned in their seats to see who was going to be yelled at by Professor McGonagall. Shock clearly registered on their faces when they saw who that lucky person was.

McGonagall stared at her up and down, obviously shocked at both her appearance and her poor punctuality. She frowned down at Hermione, who was blushing deeply.

"Miss Granger, see me after class. Take your seat."

Hermione glanced around, looking for a desk to sit at. Harry and Ron were gesturing wildly at her to come and sit with them and she pretended not to see them, her eyes skimming over them. She saw that the only other empty desk was at the very back of the classroom which suited her completely. No one could stare at her there.

The lesson crawled by slowly, but no one looked twice at her except for Professor McGonagall, who kept throwing her curious glances. For the first time in her history at Hogwarts, she didn't manage to transfigure her object properly.

"_D__iventano d'oro._" She muttered, pointing her wand at the pile of chalk in front of her. Instead of the chalk turning to gold, it blackened and turned to ash. A small tear escaped her eye. _Why? Why can I not be perfect? I need to be perfect. Perfection makes everything better. _

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together, successfully gaining everyone's attention. "Your homework is to write a one and a half foot essay on the S_ix Laws of Transfiguring a Living Creature_ according to J. R. Demetrae." Everyone groaned. "Class dismissed."

Chairs scraping the ground and voices filled the classroom and died down as they left. Harry and Ron hung around the door until McGonagall said, "Potter, Weasley, you may leave. I need to talk to Granger."

Harry flashed a quick 'you'll-be-fine' smile at Hermione and left with Ron.

Hermione was still sitting at her desk. McGonagall spoke to her, "Miss Granger, tardiness is not acceptable. _Especially_ not on the first day of school. Do you have a reason for your lateness?"

Hermione broke eye contact with McGonagall and gazed down at her desk. "I slept in." _Stupid. So, so stupid. You were already ugly, fat and weak, and now you're lazy. _She told herself. _You could never be perfect._

Professor McGonagall stared at her for a moment. Something was different about Granger. Yes, she looked different – she'd obviously discovered eyeliner – but it was deeper than that. She frowned. "Don't let it happen again."

Hermione looked up. "Thank you, Professor."

Hermione made her way out of the classroom and through the corridors, down the stairs and to the dungeons. _Potions, great._ _Just what I need._

She said silently at her table, waiting for the lesson to be over. Her eyes were glazed over as she thought about how imperfect she was. If only she could be so perfect that nothing affected her, nothing made her want to run out of class to the bathroom and cut herself.

Her fingernails dug into her palms. She was craving a release of her pain. She needed it.

She raised her hand shakily.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape growled.

She could feel her heartbeat banging on her ribcage, begging to be set free. "Could I please...go to the bathroom?" She asked weakly.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Go. Five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione felt tears prick the back of her eyes. _Now look what you've done._ She ran from the classroom to the nearest bathroom.

After slamming the cubical door and locking it franticly, she sat on the toilet seat. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and reached into her pocket. She pulled out the only thing that understood her completely. The only thing that could make her feel something other than the suffocating feeling of sadness that plagued her. Her razor. It glinted slightly in the uneven lighting of the bathroom. Hermione pulled up her sleeve and placed the razor on her forearm; she traced a perfectly straight line and then went over it, but with pressure. She watched as droplets of blood surfaced. It was so calming, so _perfect._

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**Well, I hope you liked it. Please review, I really want to know if it's worth continuing. And any ideas you have? (:**

**x**


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